satiate archer! could not one suffice? thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain, and twice ere once yon moon had fill'd her horn." My beloved, too much beloved Samuel is no more. He has followed his brother down to the tomb, and left me to wander on these unfriendly shores alone. He was taken on the night of the 21st Septr. and had every attention paid him which the best physicians and nurses could bestow, but the Lord was pleased to call him away on the morning of the 26th Septr. I heard of his sickness in a few days, but was not informed of the issue until a few days ago, and during this state of suspense, you may imagine, but you cannot realize my solicitude-I prayed and wept, and wept and prayed. This dear boy's letters would surprize you-he seldom omitted to request earnestly my prayers for himself and his dear brother Thomas, as he called him; and in his last letter he says, "My dear father, I fear the loss of my dear brother Thomas will affect you greatly, but you are well versed in misfortune, and I hope will be enabled to bear up under it." I had written to them to go over to the bay of St. Louis, but they found it difficult to get away, and very expensive, and they put it off until too late. Indeed the country even here, is little better than Orleans, and the the same yellow or bilious fever prevails, but is not quite so malignant. There are few houses where part of the family is not siek. One in the family where I board died in four days sickness last week with yellow fever. The Lord has preserved me in tolerable health hitherto; for your sakes I trust he will preserve me a little longer. As soon as it is safe, I purpose if the Lord will, to return to Orleans, where I anticipate a sorrowful season-no affectionate child to welcome my arrival there, O, my sons, my sons! -but I forbear: "it is the Lord," I will bless his holy name and hold my peace. I have enclosed to my friend Henry some verses, which I here present you as a memorial of a living husband and parent, and of departed worth-it has no merit in it, but was composed under heart-felt sorrow, and it would have been easy, during the time I wrote it, to have covered the paper with tears. May the Lord comfort and support you, and sanctify to us all his gracious dealings. Write to me at Orleans; let my beloved Harriett, Mary and Caroline write to me and put their letters into the care of the captain of the packet, with a request to deliver to me himself, to save a heavy postage which is charged here. Let me know what prospect you have of living; I expect it will take more than I can raise to pay the expense of doctors, &c. which are very high, but I will try to earn something as speedily as possible, in some way-the Lord, I hope, will direct me. My love to friends, and may the God of peace be with you. I am Your afflicted WM. HASLETT. New Orleans, Novr. 20th, 1819. My beloved Daughters, I have now no sons to address-your dear brothers are all gone down to the silent tomb. You may well imagine what my feelings have been, on and since my arrival herewhen the steam boat arrived opposite the custom house where my dear Samuel used to write, and the friends of those who had been absent were pressing on board to welcome their arrival-Oh my heart what didst thou feel! no affectionate Samuel and Thomas to greet my arrival-no, they were no longer to be found among the living!-I soon repaired to the melancholy receptacle of the dead, and found my dear Samuel's grave, I expect to find Thomas's yet. I have some of Samuel's hair and his profile, shall I send them to you? I have received all your letters to Samuel up to the 18th, Octr. (post mark). and note in your dear mother's last, the death of Grand-Pa and Dr. Monroe-my dear William had gone before I would fondly hope they would all meet in heaven-there the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. Your dear brothers here had greatly improved in every thing praise-worthy. Samuel was an uncom mon youth--the collector told a gentleman of my acquaintance that he never had his accounts so neatly kept before. But it has pleased the Lord to take them from a world of sorrow and of sin, and we must not repine nor sorrow as those who have no hope. You have heard from Samuel the particulars of Thomas's death. Samuel was taken on the night of the 21st. September about 10 o'clock-had a physician sent for, who came immediately, and attended him constantly. On Saturday, 25th, my friend wrote me he was better, and that they had hopes of his recovery; but that night he grew worse, and about midnight he was seized with the black vomit. He had his senses until that time, he then became delirious, and about 9 o'clok on Sunday morning, 26th, his soul took its flight. O! my dear children, how solemn is the hour of death, and how sensibly have we been reminded of its awful certainty. I cannot get your dear brothers out of my mind for a single hour while awake, and I sleep little, may the Lord support us all. Samuel, as well as Thomas, had the best attendance possible. The lady he lived with treated him as her own child in his illness, and she wept at his remembrance when I first called upon her. It gives me great pleasure to hear you are a comfort to your mother; I hope you will, each and all of you, seek religion while young-your dear brothers used to write "My dear papa, remember us in your pray ers," and surely the woods can bear me witness that I cried to the Lord for them. Write to me my dear Harriet, Mary, and Caroline ;--send your letters up to Mr. Henry and he will forward them by the packets. With my earnest wishes for your happiness and comfort, I am, my beloved children, Your affectionate father, WM. HASLETT. Do my dear Elizabeth and Janetta seem to realize their brothers death? Tell them papa loves them dearly, and often thinks of their dear prattle. Can little Maria Louisa walk and talk? New Orleans, 20th May, 1820. My dear Wife and Daughters, I am not a little disappointed at not hearing from you by one of the packets just arrived. It is now upwards of three months since the date of your last letters. I hope nothing special has occurred to prevent your writing, and what can be the reason? Since my last, nothing of importance has transpired. The weather now is remarkably warm, and you may readily suppose the people, are looking forward to the sickly season with some degree of anxious solicitude. By the brig Feliciana, which sailed a few days since, I sent to Mr. Henry's care two barrels of sugar, which I hope you will receive safe. The season of business will soon be over here, and I purpose, if spared, to take some goods with me to the country, about the beginning of August, in hopes of doing something during the autumn. Inclosed you will receive some verses written after my return to this place, and after receiving the news of our dear William's decease. I hope they will serve rather to soothe than to grieve your minds. Perhaps at no one period did I so sensibly feel the weight of my afflictions as at the time I arrived here, and having no intimate friend with whom I could freely converse on the subject, I gave vent to my feelings on paper; and, to gratify some of those who had read the manuscript and wished to have copies, I gave them to the printer. I hope they will be acceptable, not on account of any real value or beauty, but as a memorial of the writer and our dear departed children. If I am spared I hope to be in a way of doing something next winter. Business in this place is exceedingly precarious, and failures much more frequent here than in Philadelphia, although the population is not one half. I hope my beloved children will be affectionate, kind, and attentive to their mother, and endeavour to improve each others minds, especially endeavour to improve in the knowledge of God and divine things. I hope I shall soon hear from you and of your welfare. I beg you will write me by mail without thinking of postage, and with earnest wishes for your happiness, I am, Your affectionate husband and father. WM. HASLETT. The following lines were written by an afflicted parent on hearing of the death of two beloved sons, (Samuel and Thomas Haslett) in N. Orléans, Sept. 1819. and presented as a mournful remembrancer to a weeping mother and sisters. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord. Jobi. 21. On the banks of Mississipi, While with grief my bosom's torn. Far from friends, and at a distance |